Denial in My Conviction
by The Face Of Icecream Pick
Summary: After being broken and torn, will Harry be able to stand? For revenge, perhaps. Forced on as a slave to Draco Malfoy, it is all he has


Alright then, I really am not sure how good I am at this category but I will do my best. My writing will never improve if I don't ever get a story down, now will it? Anyway, I would first like to start that nothing here really belongs to me, other than the extra plotline that takes place, which would not be affiliated with Harry Potter otherwise. As far as I know, the whole main thing belongs to J.K. Rowlings and, possibly, Scholastic, though I'm not sure on this last one, but I'll have it listed just incase, so if I'm wrong, don't get mad at me. I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Denial in My Conviction

Chapter 1: Wake

Harry sat in the common room, waiting for Ron and Hermione to meet him as they said they would. They had all decided to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas break, because it was much more cheerful than going back to their real homes. The Weasley's house was cramped and full of children, there was no magic at Hermione's house, and she wouldn't be able to practice all of those new spells they had learned in class, and all that would wait Harry was the Dursleys, and there really isn't any explaining necessary for them, now is there?

Professor McGonagal had sent Ron and Hermione off on an errand, and they had promised they would meet Harry in the common room, so he should wait there. Harry scoffed at their words of being only a moment.

"More like a bloody eternity," he said to himself drolly, finding himself absolutely bored.

Though it would have been productive to get started on the mounds of Potions homework he had, Harry decided against it, knowing it would put him to sleep all too easily, and instead lounged in one of the red cushiony chairs, thinking he might read an interesting book or something. Sadly, there weren't any books he could think of worth putting his time into, thus terribly shortening on his reading material. That was soon changed, though, when a large owl swooped into the common room, dropping a letter in Harry's lap.

This was awfully odd, Harry thought, seeing as how owls usually deliver mail during the morning at breakfast time. The letter was addressed to him, but there was no stating from whom or where it was from. Harry opened the envelope curiously, wondering who could have possibly sent him it.

_'Meet me tonight under the oak tree at the lake.'_

That was it? Harry turned to the backside of the letter to make sure that there wasn't any other text written. How strange it all seemed. Then it suddenly made sense, of course. It was probably Hermione telling him to meet her because Ron was in serious shit. Then again, the writing was awfully lovely, and didn't look like her penmanship. Maybe it was a secret admirer who was to shy to put their name, and wanted to talk to him in private. Whatever the case, Harry's curiosity always did seem to get the better of him, and he found himself heading out of the common room, and off to the old oak tree.

It was awfully dark outside, seeing as how it was December, and everything became darker faster. It was only about 8:00 or so in the evening, and if it weren't for the moonlight, Harry would have had no idea where he was going. After stumbling over a few rocks, and slipping on loose patches of dirt, Harry was able to make out the form of the tree next to the glistening lake.

Once he had reached it, he looked around to find no one there. The note he had received hadn't stated the exact time to meet whoever it was, but simply referred to 'tonight.' Harry figured he had nothing to lose by waiting ten minutes, and then if some angry little girl razzed him tomorrow, he wouldn't be to blame.

It was actually quite pleasant, though, having a light wind whip across his face as he could hear the bushes slightly rustling from the air. Everything seemed so peaceful and quiet, and he couldn't help but nod off a bit. He quickly rose to attention, though, at the snapping of a twig behind him.

"Well, well, Potter. Waiting all alone?"

Harry didn't have enough time to turn around and identify who it was behind him before everything went black.

When he awoke, he found himself in a dungeon of some sort, chained to one of the cold, damp walls. He twisted a bit, and then groaned when he found that his ribs were sorely bruised, but what had happened, he really couldn't figure out.

"Are we enjoying ourselves Potter?"

Harry looked over to see a figure in the shadows watching him. A cruel chuckle floated from the shaded corner, making Harry angry, not enjoying being held captive by this mystery host.

"Who are you?" he asked, jerking a bit. As he did so, he felt as if a healing slash on his side had been quickly ripped open. He bit his tongue, not wanting to shout in front of his capturer.

The figure began to step out of the darkness, snickering to himself joyously as Harry looked to his bleeding torso. Harry glanced slowly over to the mystery man, not wanting to rip open any other wounds he might not be aware of. His whole body ached, and he could not tell what had been spliced open, and what had been merely bruised. He then saw the figure's whole body in the light.

"Malfoy," he snarled, now realizing that he was probably in one of the dungeons underneath the Malfoy manor, "What have you done to me? Why am I here?"

Draco smirked as he eyed Harry's battered form, finding himself quite amused. "Don't you know," he asked in mocked innocence, "Christmas is coming up, Potter, so I asked father for a special present."

"What? You want to beat me to death?" Harry found his knees weakening underneath him, his strength to stand dwindling, but he had to stand. He could not let his legs give way under him, even if the shackles that bound his hands kept him from falling. To lose in front of Malfoy would have been more degrading than anything at that moment. Right then, he would have rather run his tongue through Snape's greasy hair than show Malfoy that he couldn't hold his own.

Draco now seemed to be more than entertained by the display. "You mean kill you? Don't be silly; that'd be wasteful," Draco came within inches of Harry's face, tracing one of his pale fingers across the other boy's bruised lips, "Besides, I have much better plans for you. Much better plans, indeed."

Harry shook his head away defiantly, not wanting to be touched by the sadistic bastard. "Keeping me captive won't work! Dumbledore will know I'm gone, he'll tell the ministry, and they'll find me here. It won't look to good for you and your family with Death Eater records."

It was too much. Draco couldn't contain himself from laughing. "What are you talking about, you idiot? Like I'm going to keep you here during the school year. Besides the inevitable case of your missing, I would have no one to play with at Hogwarts." Draco began to play with his captive's hair, "Father really is good at these sorts of things, you know. He was able to get a letter off to the head office saying that your family would have a reunion in whatever stupid Muggle town you live in, and would have to be home for the break. You'll come back on the train, and look as if nothing out of the ordinary happened."

Harry glared back at him hatefully, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. "You think I'm just going to take whatever you shove in my face, and then act as if nothing happened, not to mention be some play thing of yours throughout the school year?"

Draco nodded, happy that his toy understood. "There's no use fighting it, you know, " he said in a conversational tone, "we'll put a binding device on you, and you won't be able to anything other than what I tell you to. Father is really a genius, how he comes up with all of these ideas."

"Then why don't you go fuck your father if he's so damn wonderful," another cut opened, and Harry gasped slightly, trying to flail to much and suppress the rage that was burning inside of him.

Draco was not too pleased by his comment, and slapped him across the face. "I will not hear you speaking disrespectfully about me or my family ever again, is that clear?!" He commanded, watching Harry's already bruised lip begin to trickle with a little blood. "Now then," the boy gained his composure and smiled maliciously once more, knowing that he was fully in control, "From now on you are to refer to me as 'master,' unless instructed to do so otherwise."

Harry looked at Draco as if he must be joking. "Bite me." This made Draco frown.

"I really didn't want to take this out yet," Draco sighed, acting as if he was disappointed, though it was more than obvious that he was eager to get onto whatever it was he was about to do next. Out of his pocket he took a thin metal chain and placed it around Harry's neck. It immediately shortened, and began to cut off his air supply, choking him. "It will do that each time you refuse to obey me, and won't stop until you begin to comply with my orders. Further more," he paused. Harry waited for Draco to finish his sentence, but suddenly was greeted by the worst pain imaginable. He felt himself twitching all over, and thought that pieces of him were about to be torn from his body in a barbaric manner. It was gone almost as quickly as it came, and left Harry hanging from his shackles, his muscles spasming from the brief torture.

On eyeing what had happened, Draco seemed to be pleased. "As I was saying, Potter, it has the power from the Cruccio spell imbedded in it. That's more or less for my enjoyment, really, so I suggest you be a good boy and try to be pleasant, or else you might come across some nasty shocks." He mused for a moment at the pun he had made, exalting his own brilliance, and then focused his attention back onto his victim. "Now then, I could possibly get you out of those cuffs, and maybe even have some of your wounds healed, that is, if you beg me."

If only his hands were free, then Harry would have strangled the brute. The skin on his wrists was raw from the shackles, and beginning to peel. His legs felt as if they were of no use at the moment, and could find no way out of the situation. In some ways, he wondered if it would be better to die. Then again, if he died, he'd never have a chance for revenge. That was enough to make him throw away his pride, knowing he would be able to gain it back double once he had the chance.

"Please," he gasped, "Please let me out of these."

"Hmm, I don't know. That sounds more like a request than actual begging," Draco looked at Harry lividly, loving to watch him squirm.

"Let me go. I'll do anything you want."

"Who am I to you?"

"... master."

Satisfied, Draco took a key from a different pocket and unlocked the bindings. Harry fell to the floor, clutching himself, biting down hard on his lower lip to keep him from whimpering. He heard a snap of fingers, and, after a moment, felt as though he was being lifted by many hands. In fact, he was being lifted by many hands. He noticed that many house elves had come to their master's beckon, and were carrying the beaten boy up the stairs and off through the mansion. Harry didn't really care at that point, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and open them again to find out that this had been nothing but a horrible dream.

As anyone would know, probably the most horrible dream of all is probably the one where things are already unpleasant, and no matter what is done, waking up again is near impossible. This is what this had to be.

Some time later, Harry opened his eyes in hopes of finding himself in his bed at Hogwarts, and to be greeted by the screeches of Crookshanks being chased by an angry Ron for getting fur all over his robes while he was asleep. Sadly, he was in a room entirely foreign to him, and there was a sharp sting in his side. It was far from as bad as before, but still not too pleasant. He looked at the furniture and pictures that hung on the walls of the large room. Everything looked to be centuries old, and in perfect condition. He marveled at the large tapestry of a great black dragon on the wall opposite of him. The weaving looked to be exquisite, and must have cost a fortune. Actually, to pay for everything would have probably cost everything he had in his vault at Gringotts.

"It seems you're looking a bit better."

Harry looked at the doorway to see Draco leaning against the wall, still looking amused by Harry's actions.

"What're you smiling at?" Harry asked coldly, restraining himself from jumping Malfoy and smashing his head against the hard stone floor.

"Tsk tsk, you could be more polite," Draco feigned being emotionally hurt before breaking into a small set a chuckles. He got on the bed and hovered over Harry, their bodies parallel. "Isn't it amazing," Draco let himself rest on top of the other boy, "This bed alone is probably worth more than the Weasley's whole family line. Then again, I've seen tattered books on the street worth more than them."

"Don't talk about the Weasleys like that," Harry said menacingly, not liking Draco being on top of him, even if there was a layer of covers between them.

"Really now, you should be thanking me for delivering you from such impoverished company," Draco's words cut like knives, hoping to get a rise out of the Potter boy, "I think I should be rewarded for doing such a noble deed."

There was only one reward Harry would have liked to have given him, and that would have been an elongated death sentence. Draco, on the other hand, had other ideas.

"How about a kiss 'thank you,' Potter? I wouldn't mind now that your lips aren't all bloody and gross."

"Rather kiss Umbridge's clit," Harry snarled back at him, struggling to get out from under the other. It was no use; he was perfectly pinned to the bed.

"C'mon now, Potter, I'm planning on having you utterly ravaged by the end of the week. You should be thankful I'm being nice for the moment. Now kiss me."

As the thought of lurching away came to mind, Harry could feel the chain around his neck tighten, and if he refused, he would suffocate. He simply lay there as Draco pressed his cold lips to his, lightly licking Harry's bottom lip as he did so. After a few moments, he pulled away.

"You're not too good at response, slave," Draco seemed to like the ring to that; Harry was repulsed, "Act like you're enjoying this, and I'll leave it at that for the day."

Draco dove in, and Harry complied, taking in the bruising kiss as Draco forced his tongue into his mouth, exploring every bit of it. It occurred to Harry that he should probably bite the bastard's tongue off, but even as he thought about it, he began to feel the choking sensation. He made himself suck on Draco's lip, making the blonde moan slightly. Finally, for what felt like an eternity, Draco pulled away, looking more than satisfied.

"Good boy, slave," Draco said as he placed his head just below Harry's chin, looking as if he was going to fall asleep. He lay there for a moment, and then shook himself, getting up off of the Golden Boy. "I'd suggest you don't try anything, though," he said as he placed himself next to him, "Because if I die, that chain'll make it that you do too."

Harry mentally cursed at himself as his torturer began to snuggle next to him, saying quietly to himself, "Mine. Finally mine." He should have known there had to be something more to this chain than what had been first stated. He tried to take it off, but it only choked off his air supply the more he attempted, so he let it be. For now, there wasn't a way out, but it couldn't be like that forever. He just would have to wait for the right moment, but until then, he would have to lay there and count the hours.

Alright! First chapter complete! I hope you all didn't mind Harry getting all beat up like that. I kind of felt sorry for him. Still, it's for the sake of the plot, and he'll do anything I tell him because he loves me! (Harry begins to inch away from author) Ahem, let me reiterate: Harry loves me, or else he'll be thrown into a bog that'll make him smell bad for the rest of eternity. (Harry sits and cries in defeat). See, he's even moved to tears! I feel so happy that I'm cared about! Review if you liked it, or else I won't write more.


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